Chapter 8 - The Shadow EmpireThe rain fell in relentless vertical sheets over the St. Johns River. The dark water sloshed violently against the wooden pylons of the marina pier, turning the narrow walkway into a death trap.
Judge Arthur Cole stepped forward, holding a sleek black revolver in his gloved hand. He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, looking past Daniel toward the white van.
“Do you have any idea how much money was tied up in Sarah’s family trust, Deputy?” Judge Cole asked smoothly, as if discussing a routine real estate closing. “Forty-two million dollars in timberland and coastal development rights. Her father left it all to her. But Sarah... sweet, naive Sarah... refused to sell the land to our development consortium.”
Sarah stepped out from behind Daniel, holding Eli tightly against her chest. “Because my father wanted that land preserved as a wildlife sanctuary! You lied to him! You poisoned him!”
“Your father was an old fool who died of natural causes,” Judge Cole sneered. “And you were supposed to die quietly in a Jacksonville hospital six months ago. But Travis was too sentimental. He thought he could keep you alive in a box until Eli turned eighteen and signed over his inheritance rights.”
Travis Cole took a step forward on the dock, his hand gripping the heavy tactical pistol. His eyes were wild, bloodshot, and frantic.
“Give me my son, Reyes!” Travis screamed, his voice echoing over the roaring storm. “The judge can have the land! I just want the boy!”
“Shut up, Travis!” Judge Cole snapped, turning his head toward his brother. “You ruined this whole operation because you couldn't control a three-year-old child! You let him escape through a floorboard!”
“He’s my blood!” Travis yelled back. “I built that cabin for us!”
The argument between the two brothers created a split-second window of distraction.
Daniel didn't wait.
He raised his Glock 17 and fired two rapid shots directly at the dock lighting fixture above Judge Cole’s head.
The light fixture exploded in a shower of sparks and shattered glass, plunging the entire marina into absolute, pitch-black darkness.
“Get down!” Daniel roared to Sarah.
Gunfire erupted in the dark.
Judge Cole fired wildly toward the van, the bright muzzle flashes illuminating his furious face for fractions of a second. Travis scrambled across the slippery wooden dock, firing toward Daniel’s position.
Daniel dropped to one knee, relying on instinct and the flash of the enemy weapons. He fired three controlled rounds toward Judge Cole’s position.
A sharp cry of pain rang out. Judge Cole’s revolver clattered against the wet wooden planks, rolling into the dark water below.
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“Arthur!” Travis screamed, turning his gun toward the shadow of his brother.
Daniel lunged across the wooden dock, driving his shoulder into Travis’s waist. Both men slammed into the wooden railing, crashing through the rotted timber and falling six feet into the freezing, churning waters of the St. Johns River.
